The Wager
by Sariniste
Summary: Ichigo crashes Aizen's New Year's Eve party but finds more than he bargained for. AiIchi. Yaoi. AU. Lemon in chapter 2.
1. Chapter 1

**The Wager - Chap. 1  
**

**A/N:** Ichigo crashes Aizen's New Year's Eve party but finds more than he bargained for. AiIchi. Yaoi. AU.

**Warnings:** Lemon in chapter 2. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like yaoi.

**Posted:** 12/31/10

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach and all characters in this story are 18 or older.

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It was the party everyone wanted to be invited to. The mysterious and debonair Aizen Sousuke was throwing a New Year's Eve party at his penthouse apartment. For Kurosaki Ichigo, however, it was just an excuse to confront Aizen.

Ichigo rode up the glass-sided elevator, looking out at the city lights spreading out beneath him. His reflection stared back at him, overlaid upon the night vista like a spectral vision. Orange hair capped a face decorated by a ferocious scowl, grimacing over the hordes of party-goers below. Getting off at the seventy-eighth floor, he strode down the plush carpeting and stopped at the end of the hall. The double doors to Aizen's apartment were thrown open and the apartment was packed. Music pounded out from speakers somewhere within, and the smells of good food and plenty of alcohol wafted out into the hall.

Sitting at a table by the door was a slender man with fine silver hair falling in his slitted eyes. He grinned at Ichigo as he halted at the end of the hall.

"D'ya have an invitation, my friend?" he queried softly as Ichigo made to enter the double doors.

Ichigo scowled at him. "I, uh, left it at home," he said with a belligerent frown.

The other man looked him over speculatively. Underneath a leather bomber jacket, Ichigo was wearing a white linen shirt open at the neck to reveal several chains dangling over a well-muscled chest. Tight black slacks hugged a well-formed rear end. On top of it all was a handsome, sulky face framed by a luscious shock of orange hair.

He smiled lasciviously. "I suppose you'll do for Sousuke…" His voice trailed off suggestively and Ichigo flushed. "What name should I give him?" the silver-haired man inquired.

Well, whatever, if it got him in the door. "Kurosaki Ichigo."

The silver-haired man murmured into a small hand-held device, then gestured expansively at the door. "Please, be my guest." He cocked his head to one side then, and his smile widened. "It's the last door on the right, all the way at the end of the hall."

Ichigo passed through the doors and into a dramatic open space perhaps three stories tall. The entire room was open, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out over the sparkling panorama below. Glass-block walls separated a kitchen flashing with high-tech gadgetry from an elegant, recessed living room holding ultra-modern furniture. The room was filled with people talking, laughing, sipping from tall flutes of champagne and selecting hors d'oeuvres from silver trays. The entrance to the hallway was at the other end of the large room. Ichigo pushed his way through the crowded living room. The hall beyond was quiet and dark. His footsteps were muffled by thick carpeting. He walked to the end, looking for the last door on the right.

The door was ajar and Ichigo slipped through it. The room beyond was unlit and silent. In the dimness, only the silhouette of a slender man sitting on a leather desk chair was visible. He was facing the plate glass window overlooking yet another expansive view of the city, his back to Ichigo.

"Come in, Ichigo," said a deep, vibrant voice.

Ichigo scowled and moved forward. The man was gazing out over the view from the window, a single narrow glass of champagne on the round onyx end table beside him. He turned to face the youth as he approached. In the dim light Ichigo could see that he was wearing a black silk shirt, the collar open at the top, revealing a pale throat gleaming in the low light. Large, dark eyes regarded Ichigo thoughtfully, and full lips curved up in a smile that was somehow disturbing.

"Please, have a seat," Aizen offered, with a graceful gesture toward another chair by the window.

"What are you doing sitting all alone here in the dark when you have a houseful of guests?" Ichigo knew he sounded rude, but he didn't care.

The other man smiled. "Sometimes I prefer solitude."

"What, on New Year's Eve?" asked Ichigo skeptically.

"Would you prefer if I said that I was waiting for you?" said the other man softly.

"Cut the games, Aizen!" Ichigo's voice sounded loud in the quiet room. "We both know why I'm here."

"Do we?" murmured Aizen, looking down at the liquid in his glass.

"Yes," said Ichigo angrily. "I want you to leave Inoue alone."

There was silence in the room for a few moments. Then Aizen replied, "Why should I give up the pleasure of her company?"

"We both know you don't care about her; you only want to use her." Ichigo clenched his fists and glowered at the brown-haired man.

"Well, in that case," said Aizen softly, "what will you give me in return?"

Ichigo gaped. "What? You're rich; you can buy everything you could possibly need. I don't have anything you want."

"Oh really?" asked Aizen, his eyes alight now with an emotion Ichigo did not recognize. Deliberately, the man ran his eyes up and down the length of Ichigo's body, and the younger man shivered. Unconsciously, he tugged his jacket more tightly around his body.

"Why don't we try something… sporting?" suggested Aizen in a low, amused voice. "Let's make a bet. If you win, I'll agree to leave Inoue Orihime alone as you say. But if I win, you agree to spend the night with me… doing whatever I choose for us to do."

Ichigo's blood ran cold. Aizen was gazing at him now, the tip of his tongue flicking out to touch his upper lip. There was a dark smile on his face. Ichigo swallowed. It was likely the best deal he would get from Aizen, and probably his only chance to save Inoue. His mouth firmed. "All right. What do we bet on?" he asked.

Aizen smiled, pleased with his victory. "I'll let you choose the game," he said, "so that you can be convinced I am not cheating."

Eyes narrowed, Ichigo studied his face. Then he dug in his pocket for a quarter. "Here," he said. "Let's flip a coin."

The other man's eyes moved slowly over the bright hair framing handsome features, warm brown eyes, that pouting, scowling mouth. He licked his lips. "Go ahead," he said with a lazy wave of one long-fingered hand.

Ichigo tossed the quarter high in the air. It spun, glittering, in the light from the city outside. He caught it in his palm and placed it over the back of his left hand, then turned to Aizen with an inquiring look.

"Heads." The man's voice was low and vibrating.

Ichigo lifted his right hand up to reveal the coin. The familiar profile of George Washington glinted in the city lights.

Aizen leaned back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. "Heads I win, tails you lose," he murmured softly. He looked up at Ichigo with a gleam in his dark eyes. "Didn't you know I always win?"

Ichigo swallowed. "Well, I guess you did this time." He pocketed the quarter and straddled the chair opposite Aizen, multiple pinpoints of light in his eyes reflecting the vista beyond. "So I guess we have a deal. What do you want?"

Aizen regarded him slowly, appraisingly, watching the slight bloom of fear in the younger man's eyes. Then he leaned forward suddenly and reached out to Ichigo's face, slender fingers stroking his cheek, thumb gently caressing his lips. He brought his face close to the other man's and whispered, "I think you know what I want, Ichigo."

With that his lips brushed against Ichigo's, and then were pressed warmly to his mouth. Ichigo stiffened at first, and then forced himself to relax. Aizen lingered a moment longer, then broke the kiss, hovered a fraction of an inch away, smiling, and then moved in and ran his tongue lightly over Ichigo's lips, circling them. He stroked Ichigo's throat gently and then plunged both hands into his thick orange locks and drew the other man's face to him for a deep, passionate kiss.

Drawing back, he took the other man's hand. "You're mine for tonight," he whispered, "and I'll expect complete obedience from you in every way." He watched the other man shiver and his eyes narrowed with satisfaction. "The bedroom is that way." He indicated a half-open door leading off the room.

Slowly, Ichigo stood up and allowed himself to be led into the dark, dark room.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Wager – Chap. 2**

**A/N: **Thanks to the amazing** Kelsey L Leigh **for beta'ing this chapter.**  
**

**Warnings:** Yaoi. Aizen x Ichigo. Lemon in this chapter. Do not read if you are under 18 or do not like yaoi.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. All characters in this story are 18 years or older.

_(Originally posted 1/9/11.)_

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The bedroom was spacious, framed by white walls and plate glass windows, and dominated by an oversized bed made up with blood-red sheets. In the low light, Ichigo could just barely see outlines of elegant furniture, fixtures and several doors leading off the far side of the room. Aizen stopped just inside the door, watching Ichigo's eyes as he examined the room and the bed. Then he reached up casually with one hand to the back of Ichigo's neck, grasped the youth's bomber jacket and yanked it off abruptly, letting it drop to the floor.

Ichigo jumped forward and twisted around, glaring at him, but stopped himself and made no move to resist as Aizen slipped his arms around him, fondling his body through the thin fabric of his shirt. Aizen took the younger man's frowning lips again in a fierce, possessive kiss. Ichigo, his heart pounding madly in his chest, was infuriated to find his body responding against his will as Aizen's tongue probed him skillfully and the other man pressed his firm body to his. He could feel the strength and power in Aizen's well-muscled arms and chest, but fiercely fought down the tremors of pleasure even as he found his lips and tongue giving way to Aizen's expert ministrations. He'd be damned if he'd give in to this, if he'd allow himself to enjoy it even for a second. He wouldn't give the other man the satisfaction of knowing he was having an effect on him.

Aizen paused for a moment, drawing away from the young man. He could feel the other's beginning arousal and his furious resistance. Time to add something new to the mix.

Smirking, Aizen released him and turned away. He went to a cabinet in the wall, and returned carrying a flute of champagne. His eyes dancing wickedly beneath half-closed lids, he held up a small white pill so Ichigo could see it, and dropped it in the drink. Then he held the glass out to Ichigo.

Ichigo's jaw dropped and his fury flared again in his eyes. He scowled in disbelief and anger. "You can't expect me to drink that."

A dark smile appeared on Aizen's lips. "Are you reneging on our wager so soon then? You know what the consequences will be."

Ichigo crossed his arms, glaring. He took a step back. "What the hell did you put in there?"

The man in the black silk shirt moved closer, fixing his eyes on Ichigo. With a graceful gesture with his left hand, he caressed Ichigo's cheek, stroking downwards and skimming over his neck with long, slender fingers. He drew Ichigo's head toward him until his lips were brushing his ear. Then he whispered, "It will be out of your system in eight hours, leaving no lasting ill effects."

Pulling back, he again offered the glass, still smirking. Ichigo's eyes were dark with suppressed rage.

"I thought we had an agreement, Ichigo." Aizen's voice fairly dripped with amusement. "You promised obedience."

"Damn you, you bastard." Ichigo clenched his fists. He cursed himself for agreeing to this devil's bargain. He should have known better than to try to outmaneuver Aizen. The man was surely going to extract the maximum humiliation and pain from him.

"Oh, I'm certain I'm already damned," chuckled the older man, tilting his head to one side. He paused expectantly.

Slowly, his eyes burning with fury, Ichigo took the glass and drained the champagne in one long draught. Aizen's lips curled with satisfaction. When the glass was empty, Ichigo hurled it away from him. It smashed on one of the walls, shattering.

Aizen only laughed. "Thank you," he said with a mocking smile. "I'll have to make sure to send you to that part of the room later— barefoot." Ichigo glared at him furiously, but Aizen's smile only widened. He approached the youth and stroked his face gently. "Remember," he whispered, "angry sex can be so much fun."

Ichigo's face darkened and held a tinge of fear, but he held still under the other man's touch.

Aizen laughed. He felt his ardor rising as he watched the furious youth, trembling with barely restrained emotion. He could see something else in the young man's eyes; it appeared that asserting his dominance over the youth had done nothing to extinguish the hidden desire battling with Ichigo's will. He had judged the brash youth correctly. The redhead would undoubtedly claim this was all against his will. But he clearly, like so many others Aizen had known, had a secret wish to be led astray into forbidden territory, especially by a man as beautiful as Aizen. With all of those who didn't want to admit their attraction to other men, Aizen was only too happy to play the wicked seducer, the master of the game.

Aizen felt sudden anticipation spear through him. How delightful it would be to play with Ichigo's tangled emotions and desires until the youth begged to give him pleasure. He began slowly unbuttoning the top buttons of the young man's shirt, taking his time in order to draw out the moment. He wrapped the warm fabric of the shirt around his fists and drew Ichigo to him, inclining his head slightly to kiss him again, enjoying the taste of those full lips redolent of champagne with a slightly bitter undertaste.

He finished unbuttoning Ichigo's shirt and drew it off, pausing a moment to enjoy the well-defined musculature on the young man's chest. "What a lovely body you have," he murmured, and was gratified to see Ichigo flush in the dimness.

He cupped the other man's face in his hands and drew him towards the bed. "Come," he commanded softly. "Take off your clothes; then undress me."

Ichigo complied, stepping out of his clothes, his face still suffused with anger and a complicated mixture of emotions. Aizen moved to the bed to watch as Ichigo finished undressing. He reclined on the satin pillows, stretching luxuriously with a deep sigh. He beckoned to the younger man, and Ichigo reluctantly put one bare knee on the bed, then climbed onto the blood-red sheets and crawled towards Aizen, who lounged on the pillows watching him with lazy eyes. Ichigo could feel strange tingles of heat lancing through his body, and an odd prickling all over his skin. Damn it, what had Aizen slipped him in that drink? He felt a wave of unreality briefly wash over him, then fade.

As he approached Aizen unwillingly, he had to admit to himself the man was beautiful. His huge, expressive brown eyes, those perfect features, lush lips, the tousled, thick brown hair with one curl hanging carelessly in his face; the well-built, graceful body; even the aura of power and menace that hung about him was compelling in a twisted way. Ichigo exhaled heavily as he came near to Aizen, knelt beside him on the bed, and slowly began to unbutton his shirt as ordered.

Aizen gazed with pleasure at the bright shock of hair before him as Ichigo worried at the buttons of his shirt with hesitant fingers. He caught those fingers in his hand and kissed them lightly, taking them into his mouth and sucking gently. He ran his hands down the sides of Ichigo's naked body and felt him shiver at his touch. He traced patterns on the younger man's skin until he heard his breath catch, and then he began kissing him again, beginning at his throat and moving downwards, nipping at the soft flesh at the side of his neck, kissing and licking his nipples and the skin around them. As the last of his clothes were tossed off the bed, his hands moved downward, idly playing with the red-gold hair at Ichigo's crotch, touching him everywhere.

He was gratified to see Ichigo had become extremely aroused. His body clearly knew better than his mind. "So, you find being forced against your will appeals to you after all," he murmured in Ichigo's ear. "Or is it just me?" He felt the youth's body stiffen in response. He could almost hear Ichigo's thoughts as the young man cursed his traitorous body.

He began to stroke the younger man's length with long, slow caresses. Both of them were naked now. The younger man closed his eyes and whimpered deep in his throat. His arms moved of their own accord around Aizen's body and his fingernails grazed the older man's back.

"Damn it, what did you give me?" Ichigo's voice was muffled. "Was it some kind of aphrodisiac?"

Aizen gave him another wicked smile. "That must have been it. You couldn't possibly find this arousing on its own," he said as his fingers tangled in the hair between Ichigo's legs and curled around his length. His eyes glittered as the redhead could not hold back another moan of pleasure.

Then, his breath caught as Ichigo finally gave in; he began to touch Aizen's body with his fingers and his lips, caressing and kissing his skin all over. Desire shimmered in waves throughout Aizen's body and he arched and stretched under the younger man's touch.

Suddenly they were both tangling naked on the bed. Ichigo grabbed Aizen fiercely and initiated a hard, feral kiss on the older man's lips. Aizen laughed deep in his throat and kissed him back, winding his hands around his hair and pushing his body hard against him. Ichigo felt an insane desire rise in his body; he wanted more contact with the other man, wanted that beautiful body against his, wanted to see those luscious, chocolate eyes grow hazy with lust.

As they broke the kiss, Ichigo gasping for breath, Aizen whispered, "Taste me, Ichigo."

Ichigo hesitated for a moment, and then slid downwards. His tongue began moving in long, slow strokes around the sides and tip of Aizen's length. He felt the other man tense under his touch, a shiver going through his body as his breath hitched, and Ichigo felt a certain satisfaction at being in control for a change and making him feel pleasure at his touch. He took Aizen's arousal into his mouth and felt him shudder at the warmth of it.

But after a few moments Aizen pushed him aside, and with a feral smile, reached around him with slippery fingers, causing him to stiffen. "Relax," the other man murmured as he prepared him while the devilishly effective fingers of his other hand continued their assault on what seemed like every nerve ending in Ichigo's body. He paused for a minute, and Ichigo swallowed with apprehension at what was coming next. The older man lubricated himself, positioned Ichigo's body carefully, and slowly pushed inside him. One hand continued to stroke and play with Ichigo's length.

Ichigo closed his eyes. The combination of intense pleasure and burning pain was excruciating and confusing. His senses swamped him. He opened his eyes to see Aizen's face only inches from his, brown eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. Ichigo felt overwhelmed, completely overloaded with twin sensations of pain and pleasure. He gasped and moaned as the angle of Aizen's thrusts changed. Aizen was surrounding him, touching him everywhere, and Ichigo was no longer sure where his body was as he gave in to pure sensation. His vision filled with white light as he approached climax; he groaned loudly until he was almost shouting, riding the shimmering wave to its peak, screaming at the ecstasy and throbbing pain; until finally he reached his climax explosively, Aizen pounding into him harshly, and he felt both their bodies shudder in unison.

Spent, Ichigo lay on the sheets panting. Aizen slipped out of him and lay beside him on the bed, propped up on one elbow, watching him with a satiated smirk on his face. Ichigo idly thought of wanting to wipe it off with a good punch, but the thought faded. He tried to tell himself, "Aizen just drugged me and used me for his own selfish desires," but it wouldn't stick in his brain. He felt too good to be angry now. The whole experience had been surprisingly pleasurable – no, damn pleasurable. Actually, incredible.

Ichigo remembered he was supposed to be enraged, but it was hard to find the energy for it right now. He sighed and closed his eyes. The other man pulled him into his chest and began stroking his hair. Ichigo's eyes flickered briefly, and then settled. He felt himself beginning to relax into sleep.

"Ichigo, it's not even midnight yet," Aizen said. He heard laughter in the deep voice. The man's lips brushed his ear again. "The night is still young and you are still mine. There are so many more things I want you to do…"

Ichigo's eyes flashed open in panic. "What? You mean…"

"Ichigo," Aizen murmured, "we've only just begun…"

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**A/N:** My first foray into yaoi. Did it turn out all right, or should I stick to het? ;) I'd appreciate feedback, but please be kind!


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